a newly liberated butterfly beating her wings against the
freshness of flowers --no eye is looking at it

a speckled-faced village boy shouting loud at his dirt-free
future in his dream --no ear is listening to him

a thick summer sunbeam warming a flat stone in the heart of
the forest --no finger is touching it

a rich and brilliant dish lying on the big table in an empty
monstrous house --no tongue is tasting it

a blood-stained sea breeze blowing afar from an island
beyond the horizon --no nose is smelling it

no one knows god is not in heaven nor is all well with this
worthy world

The New Silk Route

has it ever occurred to you this upgraded silk route now
passing through new york and los angeles to mars all started from a
white wobbling worm who has never stopped launching his filament, and
filament out in a persistent pale pain as he tries to weave into the
fabric of this worlds dazzling brocade a gear-edged raspberry
leaf by using his tiny toothless mouth to chew its wounded texture?

The Savage Spot of Light

long after turning off your monster tv set you still
seem to see at the screen center a bright dot of light a stubborn
full stop forgotten to put at the end of a rambling run-on sentence
made all in a maze about love and/or hatred

with a wet mop of history you try hard to wipe it off
yet it refuses to vanish like a primordial black hole sucking its
own surface inside as it grew larger, rounder and blurred instead

trying harder to stop it up you squeeze in your coins
books, plantpots, photoframes sofas, shoes, finally clothes and
everything in hand but only to be thrown out right on the spot

frustrated and desperate you jump your entire naked self in
with your heart and names alike until you became one dimensional
losing both your mind and freedom senseless

Mans Mutation

dear god, i often wonder in bitter sweetness or sweet
bitterness whether i or my first home computer is the real father of my
son who i well remember was not conceived in a chip but seemed to
have been delivered at the wrong website breastfed at chat rooms
brought up in a silver cyber space as he just refuses to grow into
a full human being like myself, my father or my father's father i
know he is not really a monster but only a cold blooded hybrid between
my high mind and high tech so forever lost in virtual reality that no
birth day celebrations can hope to wake him up from his quasi
hibernation on the little mouse pad

I Love You, Dear Death

even since pangu separating the sky from the earth all
my poor fellow humans have been hating hiding from, or fighting
face to face with you although in vain

but i love you, dear death not because you are the more
fair, and sincere than any lover willing to declare nor because you are the
ultimate home to any wandering soul seeking a dome nor because you could even
give one's name a guaranteed immortal fame

i do not know how to count the countless ways i love you
yet i have flirted with your shadow hundreds of times in private
when i found it unbearable every cutting pain in my body when i was
simply sick of the fact life is full of the foul, or when i lost the
meaning and direction of my dull and humble life i love you, dear death
because only you can liberate my soul from the stuffy prisonhouse and
give me the fresh air in the outside world